Pleasantville
by knick-knack-15
Summary: Ryan and Sharpay suddenly find themselves in a 1950's black and white sitcom! Based off of the totally awesome movie, except for the end, because I fell asleep watching. This is a Troypay! And OOCness, especially when Shar goes down on someone. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know how many fic's we're allowed to have going at once, but I think this is like my... fourth, but whatever.**

**Disclaimer- I own everyone who is IN Pleasantville**

**If you haven't seen Pleasantville...**

**YOU HAVEN'T LIVED YET!**

"So." I shifted all of my weight to one leg and placed a hand on my hip.

"So." Zeke echoed, his Wildcat friends behind him.

"Tonight. 6:30. My place?" I asked, rapidly snapping my Juicy Fruit.

"See you then." he smirked.

I turned on my heel, walking into East High, right before the bell. It was as simple as that.

* * *

"And you'd better stay out of my way tonight, Ryan." I snapped, throwing my blonde hair over my shoulder and leaning against the kitchen counter. "Zeke's coming over and we'll need the living room." 

"No way." Ryan shook his head. "There's a Pleasantville marathon on tonight and I'm watching it." he stood up from the breakfast table and discarded his plate in the sink.

"You've seen like, every episode." I rolled my eyes. "I get the living room." I finalized it. "And you probably know them by heart."

Ryan slowly turned to me, squinting. I glared right back. Silence filled the kitchen as we continued our showdown. Suddenly, Ryan darted from the kitchen, me close at his heels. We dove for the remote at the same time.

"Give it to me." Ryan ordered, tugging the black remote in his direction.

"Go watch upstairs." I jerked at the remote in both of our hands.

"No, _you _go watch upstairs." he took a mighty tug. It slipped from my fingers and Ryan attempted juggling it before it hit the ground. But it did. The remote cracked in half and the pad of soft buttons skidded across the hardwood. "Nice going, Ryan. This television doesn't _work _without the remote."

I stormed back into the kitchen just as the doorbell rang. I took a U-Turn beating Ryan to the double doors, assuming it was Zeke.

"You guys have a broken remote I hear?" a wrinkly man stood at the door. I looked over his shoulder to see a beige truck sitting in our driveway. He was holding a silver toolbox.

"I... um..." my brows knit together in confusion. Ryan had totally and completely ruined everything only thirty seconds before.

"Hurry up!" Ryan pushed me to the side, letting in the repairman. "The first episode of Pleasantville is in like, two seconds." he was jumping on his toes as if he _really _had to use the bathroom.

The repairman bent over, turning on the television to nothing but a black and white snowstorm. He grinned as he opened his toolbox. "So... you're a Pleastville fan, eh?" he pulled out a silver remote with only three red buttons on it. He placed it on the coffee table. "What's your favorite episode?"

Without hesitation, Ryan answered.

"Loser." I muttered, rolled my eyes, and snatched the remote off of the table. Ryan helped the repairman to the door.

"Have a good night now, ya hear?" he shuffled back to his van.

As soon as Ryan re-entered the living room, I turned on the television. The screen was pasty white. "What the hell?" I asked, jumping up and standing over the screen. Ryan joined me.

He examined the flatscreen closely. Just as it began vibrating. He elbowed me. "Whatever you're doing to the screen, stop it."

"I'm not doing anything." I defended myself as the TV screen took on a hot pink color. "What are _you _doing?" I asked. The television went from burnt orange to lime green. It violently shook. "Ryan..." I asked cautiously, backing up from the television.

From pink to orange to green then back again. Over and over. The patterns picked up speed. Pink, orange, green, pink, orange, green...

Then complete darkness. And I mean _everything_.

* * *

"Sara Estelle... Sara Estelle, darling..." I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I flicked open my eyes to see a television set before me. I turned my head to the right to see a pasty white hand on my shoulder. And a panicked Ryan.

"What's taking so long, sweetheart?" I heard a voice coming from another room.

"Is something wrong, Sara Estelle?" Islowly turned to see a smiling woman with a mouse brown bob remove her hand from my shoulder. "Breakfast is getting cold. Come along." she quickly exited.

"What the hell is going on?" I leaned over and whispered. We were sitting on ablue couch wrapped in plastic. "Why is everything balck and whiteincluding the people?" I clenched my jaw.

"Sharpay..." Ryan's eyes widened as he stared at thesmall TV set in front of us. "Don't freak out, okay? They're not like that around here."

"Who's not like that? What do you mean_, around here_?" my heartbeat picked up. "Ryan... what's going on?"

"My name's not Ryan here, Sharpay, it's Roger. I... I think we're in Pleasantville."

**Well...? What did you think? Please READ AND REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, there was a slight mistake in the other chapter. "Mouse brown bob"? "Blue couch"?I totally slapped myself when I caught it. It's a BLACK AND WHITE sitcom. Just ignore it, Please.**

"You're lying." I whispered harshly, still frozen on the couch. "This can't be happening."

"Actually, it is." I looked back to the television screen. It was the repairman. "You _are _in Pleasantville." he looked so happy. I stood up and looked down at my grotesque outfit, a poodle skirt and sweater. I crawled to the television on my knees.

"This is insane!" I said a little louder. "What... what about Zeke?" the television flashed to Zeke. At our front door. He knocked and waited only two seconds before screaming, "Bitch!" at the high-gloss wood and stalking back to his car. "He thinks I stood him up?" my eyes widened.

"I've waited years and years to find a fanatic like your brother back there." he pointed. I was afraid his finger was going to come through the screen. I turned to see Ryan as freaked out as me.

"This is all your fault, you bastard." I cried.

"Look, I gotta go," the repairman grinned. "Your show's coming on." the television went blank.

"Sara Estelle?" I heard again.

"That's you." Ryan whispered.

"Roger, son!" a man's voice came. "Come and eat breakfast."

Ryan ushered me into the next room. A literal picture perfect kitchen. He sat me down at a fold-out chair next to him. Why was he going along with this? I had to fight the urge to jump up and right out of that freaky house.

"Eat up, dear." the woman placed a plate heaped with breakfast foods in front of me.

"Oh... I couldn't eat all _that_." I shook my head and laughed nervously at the mountain of food in front of me.

"Of course you can." she smiled, drownig everything in syrup. "And you'd better hurry."

* * *

I plopped down next to the old-fashioned car in our driveway, not caring if I ruined my unflattering poodle skirt. "Are we actually gonna go to school?" I asked, holding my stomach. 

"We have to." Ryan assured me. "We can't mess with their universe, Sharpay. There's a certain way things work around here and if something goes wrong, there's a good chance that we're gonna get stuck here."

"I don't know if I can do this." I stood up, walking down the driveway, Ryan next to me. "I'm really scared, Ryan. I..."

"Hiya, Sara Estelle." I looked up from my hideous saddle shoes to see a smiling face in a convertible-type car. "Is everything swell?"

My eyes widened. But words couldn't come out. If Troy Bolton came in black-and-white and sat in a convertible-like car, _that was him right in front of me_. As I continued to choke, he just gave me another grin before beginning to pull away. "I'll see you at school." he smiled.

"Who... who was... Troy?" I asked, incredulously.

"That was _supposed _to be Tim Roberts." Ryan shook his head. "I mean... if we're in the episode I think we're in..."

"Does he like me?" I asked, smiling.

"As a matter of fact... he does."

* * *

"The one with the short light bob is Sara Sue..." Ryan whispered in my ear as I looked across the school lawn to my waving "friends". 

"They _all _have the same hairstyle, _Ryan_." I snapped back. "Get a little more detailed, please."

"Sara Sue." he pointed. "Sara Jane. Sara Ellen. Get it straight." he snapped. "Becuase here they come." He pushed me forward.

The three of them simultaneously gave me a bright, fake smile. "Good morning, Sara Estelle." Sara Sue waved, continuing to smile. "Golly, I sure do like your poodle skirt." she clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth on her saddle shoes. "So what's happening after school today?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I... uh..." I pressed my lips together, glancing to Ryan. His eyes were wide. "Uhhhmmmm..." I stalled, hoping for a miracle. Like the first bell. "Oh, well, would you look at that." I let out a sigh of relief hearing the shrill bell come from the school. "We can't be late, now can we girls?" I smiled brightly.

"Oh, Sara Estelle." Sara Jane linked her arm with mine, "You're all about the jets, now aren't you?" Sara Sue linked with Sara Jane and Sara Estelle took my other arm.

I smiled. "You got that right." I laughed, having no clue in hell what "being all about the jets" was. (**A/N: For the record, it means having brains or being smart. Google is totally awesome.)**

They led me into the school, Ryan at our heels. Probably linking this freaky nightmare to what he had always lounged on our leather couch at home watching. I sighed, suddenly missing home. Before I knew it, we were standing in front of a locker. I stood frozen.

"Well this is yours, isn't it?" Sara Jane giggled, opening it for me. "Golly gee, what's up with you today, Sara Estelle? You're being such an odd-ball." she shook her head.

"Maybe she found out about Tim." Sara Sue grinned. "We hear he's gonna ask you on a date." she smiled excitedly. _Troy?_

Ryan gasped. "That reminds me... I need to be somewhere. See ya, Sharpay." he waved before storming down the hall in these absolutely hideous pair of loafers.

"What's a sharpay?" Sara Ellen laughed over another bell.

"Tell us later, we're going to be late for class!" Sara Sue wisked us away.

* * *

"Uhhh... what's... you know..._outside _of Pleasantville? At the end of Main Street?" I finally found the courage to ask.

Every head turned to me in shock. "Oh, Sara Estelle." Miss Parker, our teacher chuckled. "Surely, you know the answer to that." she used her wooden pointer and found Main Street on her simple chalk diagram. "The end of Main Street is just the beginning again." she answered with a dreamy smile. I felt my stomach drop. I could cross _walking _out of Pleasantville off of my list.

A bell sounded again. "That's all for now, class." she smiled brightly as we filed out of the classroom.

"That sure was a crazy question, you asked, Sara Estelle." Sara Sue giggled just as Tim Roberts approached.

Sara Sue, Sara Ellen, and Sara Jane all took a step back. "Hi, Tr... Tim." I smiled shyly, clasping my hands together behind my back and rocking on my shoes like Sara Sue had.

"I was just wondering..." he nervously scratched the back of his head. "Would you like to go to the Maltshop with me? I mean... the whole team's going down and..."

I glanced over Tim's shoulder to see Ryan sprinting down the hall, waving his arms. He slid to a stop just a few feet behind Tim. He mouthed, "Say yes." and nodded vigorously.

"I would love to." I smiled before linking arms with my three newest friends and walking away.

Honestly, I don't think I was ever going to say _no_.

**Please READ AND REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! Thanks for all of the reviews and opinions!**

**Warning- It's rated M for a reason people. So if you don't like the contents of this chapter, then don't read it.**

"Gosh, I could kill someone with these things." I ran my hands down my stomach in front of the mirror, wishing I didn't have to wear that stupid falsie. The black corset under my sweater looked as if I had stuffed two grapefruits down my shirt.

"Guys don't care about that around here." Ryan joined me, pulling a weird boat-looking hat onto his head.

"What are you wearing?" I laughed, looking at his white uniform. "You look ridiculous."

"I _work _at the Maltshop." he rolled his eyes.

"And what do you mean, 'Guys don't care about that around here'? Is there seriously a boy out there who doesn't have raging hormones? Of _course _Troy... I mean... _Tim _cares." I put my hands on my hips moving away from the mirror. "Good luck with your _shift_." I teased.

* * *

"What if he wants to go to Lovers Lane with you, Sara Estelle?" Sara Sue asked me excitedly as we walked the front sidewalk to the Maltshop. "Wouldn't that be exciting?" 

"I think it's too early to be thinking about _that_, Sara Sue." Sara Ellen frowned playfully.

"So... what goes on at Lovers Lane?" I asked casually, pressing against the glass door to the Maltshop.

Sara Sue and Sara Ellen giggled. "You're such a big tickle, Sara Estelle." Sara Jane laughed, pushing open the door. The room suddenly went quiet and all heads turned to us. Suddenly, waves and smiles were sent in our direction. "Oh! I love your poodle skirt, Sara Estelle!" or, "That ribbon in your hair sure is pretty, Sara Estelle."

"You're so radioactive." Sara Jane giggled as we found a booth. (**radioactive- popular. Oh, how I love the powers of the Internet.) **"Has anyone seen sight of Tim?" she asked, peering over my shoulder.

"There he is." Sara Sue smiled next to her, pointing to the jukebox across the diner. "And Roger really knows how to razz a girl's berries." she giggled again. **(excite or impress)**

My eyes widened. "Which one is Roger?" I asked. I looked back to see Ryan wiping down a counter. "Oh... oh! Roger! As in... my brother."I felt my face become warm. "Wait... you like my brother?" I raised my eyebrows to Sara Sue.

"Shhh!" she put a finger to her lips. "I told you that a long time ago, Sara Estelle, what's been up with you lately?" she asked, her eyebrows knitted with concern.

"Here comes Tim!" Sara Ellen whispered next to me. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to the right to see Troy smiling down at me.

"You ready to eat?" he smiled. "I've got a table over there." he pointed.

"Hold on a minute." I smiled. "I'll be with you in a second." I waited for him to turn his back to me before pouncing. "You never answered my question: What goes on at Lovers Lane?"

"Go ask Tim." Sara Jane laughed. "Go find out for yourself."

"Fine then." I stood, smiling slyly. "I will. Sara Jane's face fell as she called after me. I made my way over to Tim.

"What do you say we get out of here? You know, go to Lovers Lane or something?" I shrugged simply.

Tim choked, "Excuse me?" his eyes were wide. I took his hand and giggled.

"Let's get out of here." I grinned and started toward the door. We passed Ryan.

"Sara Estelle." he whispered urgently to my back. "You can't _do_ this! He doesn't exist!" he chased us out the door. I picked up the pace, jumping into Tim's flip-top.

"Let's go." I urged Tim.

"What is Roger talking about?" Tim asked, I turned to see Ryan coming down the sidewalk to the car. "Is everything alright?"

"Go!" I laughed as the engine started. Tim peeled down the street.

"You can't do this to someone who doesn't exist, _Sharpay!_" but we were already too far down the street for Tim to hear.

**Please Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all of your awesome ideas on what should happen next!**

**Disclaimer- I own the Saras I don't own HSM**

**WARNING! Remember where I wrote in my summary that Sharpay goes down on someone? Well here it is! So press the backspace button if you don't want to read, because I AM NOT going to deal with the whiny offended people.**

**Okay!**

"I never thought that you would want to come down here with _me_, Sara Estelle." Troy gripped the steering wheel tightly as we pulled to a stop over a field of grass. Right past the windshield was a silent lake. The night air was stiller than ever. "All of the guys think that there's no way that _you _would say yes to _me_."

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, not really sure of what I was confirming. I still didn't know what was supposed to happen at Lover's Lane. How come I couldn't just muster the courage to ask him? "Aren't we like, the most popular...or... radioactive people in school?" I shrugged.

"Yeah, but still..." he took my hand. "You're special."

I almost melted into a puddle. "Aww... Troy... I mean... _Tim!_" I quickly detected my error. "Sorry." I winced.

We sat in silence as a breeze finally rattled the night. Troy continued to grip my hand. "Sara Estelle? Can I kiss you?" he asked timidly. I wasn't used to guys as brilliantly good-looking as Troy Bolton asking to kiss me. I froze.

"Hmmm... I'll have to think about that..." I replied shyly.

"Drop dead." he smiled, pulling me close. And before I knew it, _Troy Bolton _had feebly brought his lips to mine. I couldn't believe it. I brought my hands around the back of his head and dropped all of my weight onto him. We fell back onto the bucket seats of his flip-top. He looked stunned as I pinned his arms down to the leather of the seats. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm making Lover's Lane what it really should be." I grinned and placed another kiss on his lips. My tongue pried his lips apart and explored his virgin mouth until I felt his shoulders relax. "That's it..." I smiled pleasantly. "Gosh, you people need to get out more often." I rolled my eyes and peeled his puffy basketball jacket from his shoulders.

Troy was short of breath. "What... was... _that?_" his chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Wow, you act like you've never been kissed before." I giggled and leaned over him again. My light-colored ponytail fell onto his chest. "Have you?" No response came from Troy. He just yanked me down by the ponytail and wrapped me in another kiss.

Now, _you_ wouldn't give up on the opportunity to fool around with Troy Bolton (or Tim Roberts. Whatever floats your boat), would you?

I didn't think so.

"What now?" he gasped for air as my hands trailed down the chest of his white T-shirt to the multiple buttons on his khakis. This wasn't going to be easy. "Honestly Sara Estelle, I've never seen you like this."

"That's because you've never seen me at all." I mumbled, finishing off the buttons to his pants. I spread my fingers out across his chest, watching his eys fill with curiosity. This was just all too easy. I gently bit down on his earlobe and his chest rose sharply in a gasp. He ran his hand down the waist of my sweater as my hands broke open the button to the fly of his boxers. **(I know my research. Boxers became wildly popular in 1947)**

"Is this safe?" he asked. I laughed and left gentle kisses along his jawline as my free hand dipped into his fly. He groaned at the gentle touch of my fingertip on the head his erection. I bit my lip to hold back my laughter and took hold of him slowly. "Oh, God!" he gasped, and I hadn't even done anything drastic! My hand delicately made it's way down his length and Troy bore a hole in me with his dark eyes the entire time. And I was oddly surprised to hear him whisper, "Faster."

I gripped him tighter, squeezing his shoulder with my free hand. He bit his lip and stifled a moan as my strokes came more rapidly and harder. He shut his eyes as our passion mixed with lust was hot enough to spark a flame. And finally, he let out a scream as the pressure of climax built up. "_Sara Estelle!_" echoed over Lover's Lane. And it was the last thing I heard before collapsing onto Troy's chest.

* * *

"You fell asleep." Troy whispered into my ear. My eyes fluttered open to see the bright morning. I sat up from the leather interior and stretched. Troy's pants were still unbuttoned and his shaft hung out.

"We're going to be late for school." My face became warm as I faced forward. "Hurry up, Tim."

He pulled my chin towards him and pressed his lips to mine one last time before school where I'll be forced to spill my guts out to Ryan. After all, I wasn't really allowed to give handjobs to people who didn't exist.

"Oh, mygosh, Tim!" My heart skipped a beat at the sight. "Your eye! It's... it's _blue!_"

**PLEASE leave a review for me to read... I feel so lonely...Tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all of your fabulous reviews!**

**Disclaimer-I don't own High School Musical or any of its characters, and I don't own the movie Pleasantville, and seriously, if you haven't seen that movie, you haven't lived yet.**

"Sharpay, just listen to me!" Ryan grabbed my arm as I tried to hasten away from him. The school hallways were emptying and tardiness was most definitely frowned on in Pleasantville. I was tugged backwards and turned to face Ryan. "Where have you been all night? I was really worried." Ryan looked concerned, but I was still completely freaked out that I had seen _color _in Pleasantville, so I lashed out.

"Worried about _what_, Ryan? This place is so unreal, nothing bad could happen." I snapped. "Things don't even set on fire around here! Check the lighter in your front pocket." I put my hands on my hips impatiently as Ryan fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a grey lighter and flipped the top. Usually, a flame ignites, but this time, there was nothing. "See? So you've got nothing to worry about, Ryan."

"What's the matter with you?" Ryan fired back. "Yeah, you're usually bossy, but what's with _this _attitude? And how in hell did you know that I kept a lighter in my front pocket?" his brows knit together in confusion. But I knew more about my twin brother than he realized. And I was still freaked out that _I had seen color in Pleasantville_, that I didn't answer his question. I jumped right to the problem.

"Ryan..." I squeaked out. "Last night, Troy took me to Lover's Lane. And by morning, I looked up to him, and his eye. Was blue. I mean, what could _that _mean? We're in serious trouble here. What if that old guy finds out and we're stuck in this fucking place forever and..."

Ryan was frozen on the spot. "Sharpay..." he drew out slowly. "This morning as I left for school, I noticed that one of the rosebushes in the front yard had a red rose in it. _What the hell did you do to Tim? _I _know _it was you, Sharpay, I told you not to go off with him! _He's not real!_" I could tell how concerned Ryan was, because he wanted to get out of this place as much as I did.

"I didn't know, okay?" I shouted back. My voice echoed down the completely empty hallway. "All I know is that things are changing, Ryan." I whispered. "Something is really changing."

* * *

My 'mother' handed me another wet dinner plate and promted for me to dry it. She started a conversation after our very quiet, intense dinner. "Roger was very worried last night when you didn't come home, Sara Estelle." even while she 'disciplined' me, she still kept a smile on her face. "So where were you?" 

I really wanted to lie and tell her that I had slept over at a friends house, but she was temporarily my mother, so I owed her the truth. "Tim Roberts took me to Lover's Lane." I said nonchalantly, looking down to the dinner plate I had set in the dry pile. I braced for an explosion like I would have gotten out of my real mother, but all I heard was the sound of running water. I felt 'Mom' place her eyes on me.

"So what happens at Lover's Lane?" she asked. _She didn't know! _"Is it... you know..." she playfully elbowed me. "Holding hands and things like that?" I held back a chuckle. This place was all too innocent. My knowledge of the _real world _was just what this place needed. I prepared an answer.

"No." I said simply and shook my head. "It's more like... you know..." I leaned into her and whispered, "Sex." my face became warm at the thought of Troy holding me so close in the front seat of his car. I most definitely wanted more of that before Ryan and I disappeared for good.

"Ohhhh..." 'Mom' nodded as if she understood. I relaxed and hoped that she would change the subject. But the most horrifying question came out of her mouth next. She asked it so simply and innocently: "What's sex?"

* * *

My own 'mother' didn't know the meaning of sex. Then how the hell did she end up with two kids like Roger and Sara Estelle? I tapped my finger to my chin and thought back to the mortifying discussion I had had with my 'mother'. I explained everything I knew to her, and she still ended up saying, "That's nice and all, Sara Estelle, but I don't think your father would ever do anything like _that_." 

And I found myself answering, "Uh... there are still some ways to...enjoy yourself..." I remembered my face going warm. "..._without _Dad."

I closed my eyes and tried to shake the memory of the entire conversation. But I suddenly heard faint moans coming from the floor above me. Oh, God, I had taught my own 'mother' to masturbate. I rolled my eyes, covered my ears, and let out a defeated groan. Why did the people of Pleasantville have to be so friggin' _innocent? _I longed to go back home, where everything was normal. Where I didn't have to explain.

Ryan came charging through the front door, gasping for breath. "Sharpay, the tree outside... it's on fire!"

I rewound through that day's events, and remembered telling Ryan that there was no such thing as flame here. But the thick gust of smoke coming in behind my brother told me that he was telling the truth. First Tim's blue eye. Then the red rose. Now, there's a _fire_. We really were altering their perfect little universe.

**Slow, yes, I know. But please reveiw! Tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**It's been such a long time since I've updated here! Thanxz for all of your reviews despite my unfaithful updating...**

Personally, I thought that Pleasantville was so abnormally perfect, that the slightest bit of something new, like _passion _was powerful enough to set the tree out front on fire. And I turned out ot be right. I sat on the curb across the street from our home, watching Ryan instruct the firemen in putting out the raging fire. I laughed, knowing that if I hadn't told my 'mother' about sex, she never would have experimented, and the tree out front would have been saved. But at the same time, if I _hadn't _told my 'mother' she would have continued on in her boring black-and-white life, and the firemen across the street wouldn't have learned that there's more to being a fireman than pulling kittens out of trees. The tree engulfed in flames lit up the night, and pretty soon, all of our neighbors were shuffling out of their houses, wondering what was going on.

"I _knew _that family was up to no good." I heard a family behind me. "And what _is _that thing?" someone hissed, refering to the fire. Just as a hose was turned on and the fire began to die, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a whisper in my ear.

"What's going on?" Tim asked, crouched next to me. News sure did travel fast in Pleasantville. "Wow, what's with the light show?" his eyes widened at the extinguishing fire across the street. I glanced up to him, noticing that even in the darkness, his one blue eye still sparkled. He took my hand and stood me up. "Come on, I've got something to show you." he grinned as he led me to his flip-top.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Tim, where are we?" I whispered as he led me down an abandoned sidewalk before slipping behind a building. "Where are you taking me?" I asked once more. He let go of both of my hands and made a big show of displaying the bland side of the building. It seemed to expand in all directions and a line of trashcans filled the bottom corner. This was it? "A brick wall?" I shrugged and hugged myself. The later it became, the colder it got. "That's it? Just a brick wall?"

"No," Tim answered, making his way towards one of the trashcans. He opened the lid and fished around the inside. "It's what we can _make _it, Sara Estelle." he pulled out a palet in one hand and a variety... no more like a _rainbow _of different containers of paint. And they were all in color. "The paints seem different somehow, don't they?" he narrowed his eyes in confusion and examined a small container of purple paint under his arm. "Like it's somehow... _alive_."

I nodded, knowing that he could see color. And probably only through the eye that was blue. "You like to paint?" I asked, taking the red and pink containers that he juggled in his arms. "I didn't know that." I told him. but painting still didn't seem to make sense. Especially in a place like Pleasantville, where the only colors to be seen were black, white, and grey.

"Nobody knows, not even my friends." he shrugged. "I just don't want to be laughed at." he shrugged, pulling covers off of containers and looking for paintbrushes in his trashcan next. "I'm supposed to play basketball. It's what I do." he explained. "And one day, I woke up, took a look at my paintings, and for some reason, they seemed _different_. This is a celebration." he smiled, handing me a paintbrush. "So I say... _paint_."

I smiled, watching him concetrate on the stretch of grey brick in front of us. "So what you're saying is..." I began, but he interrupted me.

"Sara Estelle, has there ever been anything you've ever wanted to do, but you were afraid to try because of what your friends might think?" he asked me suddenly. I didn't know whow to respond to that. Maybe because I wasn't the person he thought I was. "That's how it is for me _everyday_. I'm told that I'm a basketball player, not a painter. But what I wonder is why can't I be both?" he absentmindedly picked up a canister of blue paint and swirled his brush around. I continued to listen to him as he brought his brush to the grey wall. "What I still don't understand is why painting seems so different now." he muttered to himself.

I positioned myself behind him, placing one hand on his shoulder. hie paintbrush had left a streak of blue paint, giving the wall it's first precious taste of color. "Look hard at the paint, Tim. Concentrate." I was surprised to hear him fall silent. "Figue out why it's so different this time." Tim had never heard of color, but Troy had. "It's called color." I finally explained. "That color is blue." I smiled inwardly. I felt like I was talking to a kindergartener. "Just like your eye."

"Is that the word you used this morning in my car_? Blue_?" he asked, placing the blue paint under one arm and picking up his container of white. He immediately dumped every last content of white paint into the blue and they blended together, making a simple light blue color. "It _does _seem different..." he cocked his head to the side before mixing the two colors together evenly. He took a step back before heaving the container forward, sending a wave of sky blue towards the wall. The paint hit the brick with a splat, hurdling droplets in our direction. I let out a cackle, noticing that the front of my sweater was stained. "Thanks, Sara Estelle." he smiled.

"For what?" I gave him a puzzled look before bringing my paintbrush to the wall and evening out the coat of light blue on the brick wall. The color was so brilliant against the dreary grey.

He shrugged. "For opening a new door." he peeled the lid off of the black container and threw the container at the wall. It was our unusual painting of a light, brilliant blue,and a confused black. But it didn't matter that the colors were so different. It was almost like the situation of Ryan and me finding ourselves in an alternate universe and rattling their little world. We were the paint on Pleasanville's blank wall.

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"How come I always wake up, and you're right there next to me?" Tim smiled next to me, slumped against the brick wall. Though the sun wasn't its usual bright yellow, it's its light still stung my eyes as it rose over the wall opposite us. I sat up a little, noticing that I gripped a paint brush in one hand, and a container of red paint had spilled onto my poodle skirt. "Good morning." he whispered.

"Hey!" Only a few yards down the wall, an employer dressed like the boys that worked at the Maltshop emerged. "What's going on down here?" There was no use in escaping. Why hadn't Tim told me that we painted the Maltshop wall? The worker gaped when he saw what we had done. "What_ is _this mess?" My eyes widened as his cheeks turned a bright pink.

"We're sorry, we were just..." Tim was at a loss for words. A crowd began to form, noticing our piece of artwork on the Maltshop wall. We scrambled to gather things together, before we got into any more trouble. Slowly, not only Ryan and me, but those who were affected, were leaving their mark on Pleasantville.

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